


It should've been me

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 100 percent angst with some happy flashbacks, 1940s, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky's POV, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, WWII, now with two gifs!, the train incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-08
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-04-19 20:00:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4759148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Steve were the one who fell and Bucky was left behind to pick up the pieces?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It should've been me

All at once the world comes to a screeching halt - Bucky white knuckles the train railing and holds out a gloved hand to Steve -

"Steve! Take my hand!," there's a desperation in his voice that wasn't there before and the veins bulge at his forehead and neck as he strains - he's _right_ there. Steve edges closer and holds out a hand, the other wrapped around the cold railing. The last thing he sees before crashing toward the snowy earth is Bucky's face - tear streaked and pained as he hugs the side of the train. He is grateful that he had Bucky until death at the very least.

From atop the speeding train Gabe watches in horror as Steve's body gets smaller and smaller until it's out of sight. Bucky is frozen in place with hot tears running down his cheeks but Gabe can't do a damn thing. He pauses for a moment before carefully walking along the roof of the train - Zola will pay.

Bucky is nothing if not sentimental and 100% emotions - every single one of them bleed into his words as he mourns, loud and without restraint. He recalls Steve's face - twisted with horror when a door separated them, worried only about Bucky's safety as he peered through the cold window, how he'd taken a hit straight to the shield that pushed him onto the wall of the train rather than have Bucky take that hit. He'd pushed Bucky behind him without hesitation, without concern for his own life because the two of them always put the other one first, above all else.

He slides down against the wall, quietly sobs with arms wrapped tightly around his middle - they bring no comfort, no warmth. Steve will never feel warmth ever again, he will never require three blankets so that he doesn't get sick in the colder months, he will never taste the warm burn of alcohol in his throat as it spreads into his bones. He will never get married or have a family, will never get to finish art school and make something of himself. All because he did something stupid and followed Bucky into battle - he'd warned him against it.

_This isn't a back alley, Steve. This is war._

Of course he hadn't listened - he'd been stubborn since the day they met when he'd attempted (with tiny angry fists) to beat up Bucky despite the fact that he'd just saved him. It was then that Bucky decided he'd do anything to keep Steve Rogers alive. Anything at all. He'd known that _he_ might not survive this mission and though it was terrifying he'd made peace with that. Losing Steve had blindsided him.

He forces his lungs to accept oxygen - his mind to quit whirling and repeating Steve's gutteral scream as he fell. It's not working and he's beginning to require a paper bag when Gabe rushes in with wide eyes that Bucky cannot meet. His eyes are fixed on the hole at the side of the train where only moments ago Steve had clung to the edge. It is then that he puts up his walls and mourns in silence. He has learned to keep it inside. When Steve's mother died Steve had needed him to be strong and he'd fought the urge to break down - at least until he was alone. He will allow the pain to eat him up from the inside out - until it festers and boils to the surface.

On the outside he now appears deadly calm - Gabe is blinking back tears as he leans forward and looks out of the space where the train wall was. There is nothing but snow and ice for miles and miles. He half expects Steve to come crawling back from the dead - somehow he always seemed invincible.

"Bucky?"  He kneels beside of Bucky and attempts to get him to stare back. It does not work.

"I've got Zola okay? We're going to head back to base. Stark will pick us up," Gabe speaks in soft soothing tones but it seems Bucky is a hollow shell - he's no longer in there. He doesn't even nod, doesn't move an inch and hardly blinks. 

"I'll be right back - I've gotta...gotta call this in," Gabe sighs heavily and moves to another area. 

"Gabe here - is anyone there?" 

Dum Dum holds the CB close and his voice comes out across the line - "We hear you loud and clear. How are the bugs?" _Miss that ten second window and we're bugs on a windshield._

"Not...not good. We lost one," Gabe's eyes water over and his voice breaks - he had not known Captain Rogers long but he was special to Bucky and he'd saved their lives. Sure, everyone knew the real reason for the rescue (Bucky) but that didn't make it any less important.

"Who?" Morita snatches the CB with a desperate tone.

"Rogers." 

"What the hell happened?" Dum Dum demands - there is pain and anger in his voice.

"He fell - Bucky was trying to...to take his hand but he fell."

"Oh God. Barnes?"

"He's holding in there - he's frighteningly calm."

"That's how he copes. Remember how he only cried when they dragged him away to the isolation ward?," Morita replies quietly. Bucky had been beaten and starved but had refused to break - had only cracked when they came to take him to that godforsaken room that no one ever returned from. His parting words had been _I-If I don't come back I need you to write to Steve - Steven Rogers. H-he lives in Brooklyn. Tell him I ain't coming home._

"I remember," Gabe couldn't forget. 

"Zola?," Falsworth asks. Zola is the reason they lost Rogers - if they don't capture him then it's all in vain. 

"Captured" 

"We'll radio Stark - you go stay with him so he doesn't do anything stupid," Dum Dum instructs.

"Will do."

With that Gabe takes a deep breath and makes his way back to Bucky. He hasn't moved an inch and the only thing that proves he's still alive is the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He surges to his feet suddenly, having found his anger - "I'll kill them! Every goddamn last one of them!"

It's all Gabe can do to wrap his arms around him and hold on as tight as he can - Bucky is stronger than he'd thought and he struggles against the restraint. His breaths come harder and if he doesn't calm down he's going to pass out. He claws and kicks in an effort to make it to Zola and Gabe holds him like a human straight jacket. He will not lose both of them.

"No! We need Zola - the mission was important to Steve. We'll finish it for him, okay?"

Bucky goes slack in his arms and his legs refuse to hold him as reality sets in. Gabe continues to hold onto him - hoping it brings comfort in some way. He does not move until they hear the sound of a plane overhead - Stark. Bucky's body shakes violently against Gabe's arms but he does not cry - he does not scream. 

Howard says nothing as they load onto the plane, one at a time. He gives Gabe a sad nod of recognition as Bucky curls up in his seat. Zola stares back with head cocked to the side curiously - watching Bucky's every movement as if hes a specimen. He's entirely too fascinated with Bucky and Howard wonders exactly what went down in that Hydra base when they held him for a month. 

"Can you drink some water for me?," Gabe unscrews a canteen lid and holds it out to Bucky who does not respond. 

"It's alright, you don't have to," he continues. 

Bucky tightly wraps his arms around himself and his face is paler than Gabe has ever saw it - eyes wide with horror. "He's...gone....S-Steve...."

Gabe says nothing - if he needs to get it out of his system he will listen.

"I-I promised his ma I'd keep him safe. T-that's all she wanted before she died a-and I did - he-he didn't get sick this time. There's...there's no medicine that'll fix him and I can't...I can't.... "

Tears stream down his cheeks at last and still he will not meet Gabe's eyes.

"We're going to drop by and get the others, alright boys?," Howard says from the cockpit.

"Okay," Gabe replies.

Zola continues to stare at Bucky and Gabe resists the urge to punch him until he couldn't see straight. The man is a parasite and has a heart of stone.

"No....Oh God no....nononono. He can't....," Bucky sobs as he rocks back and forth.

The others crowd onto the plane, squishing against one another with downcast eyes. Somehow 'I'm sorry' does not seem enough so they do not speak.

"D-did you know h-he used to get the flu every year? A-and he-he likes white bread with mayonnaise and-and nothing else and hes...shit at dancing, a-and he gets s-sick in the Winter if you don't...if you don't cover him up with blankets. Almost....almost lost him once..." Bucky's words slur together as he stammers and his nose runs.

"He's a good man," Dum Dum replies. It doesn't feel right to refer to Steve in the past tense.

"You got no i-idea," Bucky meets his eyes and the pain inside of them is enough to make Dum Dum turn away and wipe at his own eyes. Bucky had talked about Steve at least twice in the trenches when he thought he would die - had gone on about how talented he was and how when he got back he'd ensure that Steve went back to art class, how he never backed down from a fight and if he were there he'd never surrender to the enemy. Steve was everything Bucky had said he was and more.

There was so much that they didn't know, Bucky thought to himself. They did not know how Steve stubbornly refused to quit trying to enlist after he'd found out Bucky was drafted, they did not know how his eyes looked in the early morning - too bright for such an early hour, they did not know how the sun shone on his blonde hair and lit it up like a goddamned halo and why shouldn't it? They did not know how Steve's too skinny body felt like pressed up against Bucky's much stronger one - broad bony shoulders that felt like home. They did not see the way he looked at Bucky in the bar - how Bucky's throat had went dry and he had to keep on drinking to resist the urge to kiss him because that look could only lead to that. They did not know that Steve had many sides to him - that only Bucky was lucky enough to see. They did not know that he did have a dark side and it only showed when he felt Bucky was in danger or someone insulted him. He'd ball his hands into fists and Bucky would always talk him down telling him they couldn't afford another broken bone.

They would never know Steve like he did. Bucky was made of memories - memories that were his alone; the last parting gift that he had from Steve.

They rode the rest of the way in deafening silence - eyes averted as Bucky reminded himself to breathe - in and out, in and out. It was all too easy to forget.

Upon arriving at base they all shuffled out with Bucky coming in last - eyes rimmed and red and body slumping forward.

"Lets get you cleaned up," Morita offered with a hand to Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky did not have the strength to protest - he followed him to a medic tent where his wounds were tended to and from there he wandered to his own tent and tugged on clean clothes that weren't soaked with tears and sleeves wet with snot, combed his hair to the side as if he _wasn't_ dying on the inside.

He wasn't sure how he got there but he ended up back at the same bar he and Steve had sat at not even 24hrs prior - chose the stool that Steve had been sitting in and poured a hefty shot, one after the other. A memory came floating back as he took a large gulp -

 _"You've had enough. Come on Buck, gimme the bottle,"_ Steve's cold hands curling over Bucky's as he attempted to pluck the bottle of cheap alcohol out of his hands. Bucky had lost yet another job and he'd expected it because after all, they were temporary, and a neighbor had taken pity on him - had given him half a bottle of booze.

Bucky swatted his hands away and took another swig - the room was spinning and there was now two of Steve.

_"Gonna get another job Stevie, just you wait."_

_"Not if you drink yourself to death you won't,"_  Steve lectured as he at last retrieved the bottle (only because Bucky had allowed it) and tucked it safely at his side. 

 _"You should be in class,"_ Bucky slurred. Steve attended art class every Tuesday - Bucky had given up his spot because they couldn't afford for both of them to attend.

 _"It was canceled for today on account of the weather,"_ Steve lied. It was barely raining outside but he wasn't going to leave Bucky by himself.

 _"You're a bad liar Stevie,"_ Bucky hiccuped and jabbed a finger in Steve's direction.

_" 'mm not lyin'."_

_"Go to your class - Imma wait for you, I'll be here when you get back. Wear...a jacket."_ Even drunk off his ass Bucky was worried about Steve's health. It made Steve feel important - loved. 

 _"Fat chance of that. Scoot over, you're hoggin' the couch,"_ Steve squeezed in beside of Bucky on the couch and threw an arm around his shoulder. It was easier when Bucky did that to him and he always did when Steve was under the weather or generally unhappy - but he did it anyway. Bucky leaned in and hiccuped against Steve's chest. It wasn't long before he began to breathe softer, lower.

 _"Buck? You sleepin'?"_ Steve peered down at dark eyelashes that closed over blue eyes. He attempted to untangle himself from Bucky -

 _"Don't go, you're warm,"_ Bucky protested as he placed Steve's arm around his shoulder once more. Steve pressed a light kiss to the top of his head when he thought Bucky was sleeping. Bucky had smiled against Steve's chest at the sentiment. He found it funny that people thought _he_ was the sap - nope. Steve had that title and he was all Bucky's.

 

The present comes back like a slap to the face and Bucky can't stop the sob - he cries with his entire body shaking until his nose stops up and his ribs ache. What he wouldn't give to go back... He would more than gladly take Steve's place - hell he'd been willing to die for the little punk from day one, hadn't minded busted up knuckles and bruised cheekbones as long as it meant the bullies left Steve alone.

"Sgt Barnes?," there is a feminine voice breaking the silence - the sound of high heels crunching against broken furniture. The bar itself is in shambles and there is a blackout in effect. _Let it kill me,_ he thinks.

He turns to acknowledge Agent Carters presence and pours himself another shot. She stands awkwardly beside of the bar -

"I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

Bucky scoffs - shes got no idea. "Thanks but yeah it is."

"We all loved Captain Rogers and I know you did too. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself," her voice is too calm and quiet in the stillness of the bar.

Bucky recalls the boiling jealousy in his gut as she'd eyed Steve in front of him - as if Steve now belonged to her. He'd wanted to scream at her - to rage "I LOVED HIM FIRST!" but had watched the two of them instead - standing beside of Steve as he always had and refusing to move. It was a statement that he hoped came across loud and clear - _I'm not going anywhere. He was mine before he was yours._ He'd made an obvious attempt to make her uncomfortable by first checking her out and staring at her ass and failing that he'd sneered "Ma'am" at her. Still she did not leave so he offered her a dance - anything to keep her from eyeing Steve like that. She hadn't taken him up on it - not like Steve's other dates when Bucky had stepped in when they got too close citing 'I just don't want you to get hurt Steve. This ones no good for you'. This one though? She was. That hurt the most.

He glances over at her and back at his drink. _Loved_ him? Not like he did - not even close. Bucky had loved Steve their whole lives.

"Did you respect him? Did you believe in him?," she asks.

Bucky huffs as he tosses back his drink and gives her a look that says - _You already know that answer._

"Then stop blaming yourself," she finishes with a stubborn lilt in her voice. Oddly enough she reminds Bucky of himself; maybe she would've been good for Steve after all. Leave it to Steve to fall for a dame with most of his qualities. In another time, another place he could see himself befriending her - tolerating Sunday dinners at the home she and Steve would share.

He grits his teeth at that thought - Steve had always wanted a family with the right woman. No, scratch that. _Partner_ , he'd said. Bucky had been hopeful then and the war had burst that fragile happiness.

"I'm going after Schmidt. I won't stop until all of Hydra is captured or dead." He had that dead glare in his eyes as he gripped his glass firmly.

"You won't be alone," Peggy reassured him. She _had_ loved him then. Because of that love and knowing how damn important (and wasn't that an understatement?) Steve was to him she would avenge Steve's death.

Bucky sniffled and refilled his glass with the last of the alcohol.

"I should be going. I'm not even supposed to be here - not with the blackout in effect," she stepped carefully over splintered burnt wood and broken bottles and Bucky got the feeling that she knew more about the two of them than she let on.

Steve wouldn't have talked about him - he wasn't that kind of guy. _Bucky_ was, however, and he'd told stories about himself and Steve when the hours waned and the others were sharing tales about the loved ones they left behind. And yet. He recalled that fateful night at the bar and how she'd turned to him first with a polite smile that said she knew what Bucky was up to - why he didn't take his seat at the bar and allow them privacy. And before then when they'd marched back to base - how she had glanced at him for a second before moving in on Steve knowing good and well that Bucky was right _there._ She and Steve had eyed one another with arms firmly at their sides and Bucky recalled doing the same what seemed like ages ago at a crowded enlistment center when all he'd wanted to do was touch Steve but he couldn't because they were surrounded by people. He'd never got the chance.

If he'd talked Steve out of his carefully planned and flawed strategy he would be alive right now and likely Bucky would step aside for Peggy to take his place. Anything to make Steve happy. God he'd did nothing _but_ that their entire lives - when Steve was sick and scared he'd call back happy memories and stay by his side. When Steve was grieving he'd pull a joke or gently touch him to let him know that he was here and he wasn't going anywhere. After Steve had puked (that blessed day at Coney Island when he'd let Bucky talk him into riding a rickety rollercoaster) he had laughed and then slung an arm over Steve's shoulders - steered him over to the nearest custard stand and though they couldn't afford it he'd bought them one to share because it made Steve's face light up like the sun. He alone could do that. Not even Peggy could take that from him, not that it mattered now.

"Thank you," his voice came out rough and ragged from hours of crying and hard liquor being forced down it.

She gave him a broken smile with eyes watering over - "He was a good man. We were both lucky enough to have known him." 

Bucky nodded - Steve had always been a good man long before the serum and she had loved him then - Steve had told him and Bucky had pasted on a smile that he didn't feel, slapped him on the back with a 'I'm proud of you buddy. Didn't take you long to find the right partner.' The last bit had tasted like poison on his tongue because Steve? Steve was _his_ right partner. It wasn't Steve's fault that he'd assumed he'd always be waiting until Bucky got up the nerve to do something about it.

She wiped at her eyes then and left the bar - leaving Bucky alone with his memories once more -

Steve - eight years old with hands cradling an injured bird and stroking its wings; refusing to give up on it even as it died, running to his mother with Bucky at his side and tear stained cheeks. that was the first time they'd learned that death was not picky and it was out of their control.

Steve - ten years old with a scraped up knee and Bucky bandaging him up even then because Steve's mother was working late again

Steve - fifteen and complaining about how he'd never find a girl that actually liked him. Bucky feeling like utter horseshit for hoping he was right.

Steve - nineteen years old with a flimsy tie and suspenders on a frame that never quite filled out, stubbornly telling Bucky he could make it on his own after his mother died. Bucky shaking his head to the side because God, he had it _so_ wrong. Making a vow then - heavy words punctuated with a firm grip on Steve's shoulder - a promise that Steve had him for the rest of their lives and he'd never leave.

Steve - twenty years old sketching a still life with charcoal and making jabs about Bucky's artwork - both of them looking at one another with terrified eyes as they learned that the world was now at war.

Steve - twenty one years old with wide blue eyes as he insisted on following Bucky to war, Bucky all but begging him to stay behind [ _so I got something worth fighting for back home_ ] instructing him not to do anything stupid until he could get back and keep him safe. Bucky realizing that Steve was his 'gal waiting for me to come back and writing me letters' and feeling a warm tug on his heart - keeping eyes focused on the faded yellow lights of the enlistment center behind Steve because if he didn't Steve would know how much it hurt to walk away.

Steve - rushing into Hydra's lab with its sickening blues and greens and rescuing him like his knight in shining armor - the only ray of sunshine in his life and the most beautiful and welcome sight - Steve's hand cupping Bucky's face with love and worry in his eyes before pulling back because there would be time for that later, Steve's arm around Bucky's waist and one hand on his stomach as he all but dragged him out of there, Steve being so willing to die in that factory...for _him._

He didn't deserve this. They would pay even if it meant losing his own life in the process - he had promised after all.

_I can do it on my own Buck._

_Thing is - you don't have to. I'm with you 'till the end of the line pal._

 

He would make good on it. _I'll meet you at the end of the line buddy. Don't win that war until I can get there._


End file.
